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Oct 20, 2014

'Banker by day, writer by night' as per Forbes, Ravi Subramanian is India’s numero uno thriller writer, having written six bestselling books. An alumnus of Indian Institute of Management (Bangalore), he is currently head of a leading financial institution. A career banker and financial services professional, Ravi has worked with various multinational banks (Citibank, ANZ Grindlays Bank and HSBC) for over eighteen years. As a result of his extensive background in foreign banks, writing about banking comes quite naturally to Ravi. Each one of his books thus far have been set in the backdrop of a foreign bank.

To tell you about myself, I'm an artist at heart and numbers were never my cup of tea. Me and the finance world are like Poles apart. So its needless to say that I wasn't interested in anything or anybody from the banking world. I will therefore frankly confess that even though I'd seen Ravi Subramanian's previous books on the shelves, I'd steered clear off them because of the sheer reason that his stories were based on banking.

However the mention of BITCOINS - supposedly a software-based online payment system that potentially threatens to replace plastic money, had me intrigued. I'd read before that the concept of Bitcoins had been created by Satoshi Nakamoto whose true identity remains unknown and is a subject of great speculation. It is also not known whether the name "Satoshi Nakamoto" is real name or a pseudonym. Whether this name represents one person or a group of people is also not confirmed. This puzzling background had me wondering what the book may offer as it was touted as the world's first Bitcoin thriller. And thus finally I decided that I wanted to read this book by Ravi Subramanian.

Extremely thankful to BlogAdda for promptly sending this book across. You are truly my book genie!

The blurb on the back reads 'What happens when you cross Gamer, Banker, Politician and Terrorist with virtual money?' And it really gets you wondering how is that even possible? Once you start turning the pages, the reader is definitely going to be hooked for good. You are welcomed into this thrilling world with a prologue that gives a peek into how the plastic money world operates. For a person like me who knows absolutely nothing about the finance world, this book absolutely spares you the rod. There's no jargon thrown at you but in fact this book will definitely educate you on many concepts in a simplified English.

The thrilling story begins in 2011 where Senator Gillian Tan from Washington DC, an old pal of the President of the United States of America is assassinated using a cycle bomb. Each new chapter is just 2-3 pages long making this book of 310 pages a quick read and giving the story a fast pace in progression. The story moves from Washington DC to the beaches of Rio de Janeiro and Goa. And this remains the style throughout the book where the story shuttles between cities and states in India and USA, from Mumbai to New York. However I did not understand why Chapter 2 had to be based on Prime Minister of India's office at New Delhi? It never found any mention later in the book.

New names kept getting introduced right up till Chapter 82 in the book. So the book proves to be absolutely 'un-put-down-able'. Not only because of the interesting and well-developed plot of the thriller but also because you may lose track of who is who, if you take a break. I had to spin back a few pages to give myself a revision since I'd taken a break from reading the book to finish my daily routines and chores. In my opinion this happened especially because the story-telling involved so many characters but did not dedicate the necessary amount of words to describing each character in physicality and mannerisms. I feel adequately detailed character sketches are most essential since it helps the reader build a mental picture of each person involved in the plot and does not land up drawing a blank at the mention of a name some pages down the line. This element was sorely missed!

Initially, I did not see why so many characters were involved in the story telling but when the author began to tie-in and connect the seemingly disjointed people, I was impressed. The plot thickened and began to get a little darker too, keeping me at the edge of my seat and wanting to know how Agent Adrian Scott and Tony from the FBI were to get to the root of all the evil?

Being an avid blogger, Facebook and social media junky all the ideas discussed in this book had definitely popped before my eyes time and again. WikiLeaks and Phishing cases, ATM heists and cyber crime, drugs and politics, online gaming portals and their downloadable mobile apps are all terms that one is not alien too anymore if you have spent sufficient time online, browsing posts at FB and elsewhere. However linking up all these myriad concepts to build a seamlessly thrilling story of murder and mystery is unfathomable. Hats off to Ravi Subramanian for hatching an unbelievably awesome plot and convincingly weaving it all together, piece by piece. The amount of effort and meticulous research gone into writing this novel, clearly shows.

Its however very surprising how the author has gone ahead and mentioned such gigantic brand names while portraying them in bad light- Visa and Mastercard, Dell Computers exploding like bombs in different continents. Tanya is gifted a Tanishq ring by Varun, they celebrate Malvika's birthday party at Four Seasons in Mumbai, Tanya carries a Hermes Birkin handbag. Why does it sound more like advertising rather than detailing to build a background to the story?

Though this book can easily be labelled as an excellent read and a complete entertainer, I did find a few loose ends that could have been given more attention to. The epilogue brings a swift closure on each aspect of the story, giving a glimpse of what each character is going through after Adrian and Dan have cracked the mystery wide open. However, why did I get a strong feeling that the author was in a rush to close the mystery? Also I waited till the very last page for the word God to figure somewhere. How was HE involved in all this? And why has GOD been framed as a gamer in the title of the book, I fail to understand! I expected a Penguin book to be much more tightly skimmed for typo' errors. I spotted a couple of grammatical errors in the first half of the book too but only began to take note in the latter half. 1) Pg. 236 - 'Three of his neighbours, who has seen the ghastly attack, went along with him and signed off as witnesses.'2) Pg. 261- 'This in a disaster.'3) Pg. 286- 'Can you please explain Ms. Tanya Sehgal, how that bottle came to be ('in' missing) your bag?' 4) Pg. 304- 'They had started seeing each ('other' missing) after the party. Chapter 99 finally reveals how the crime was plotted and who the actual Mastermind was. The biggest twist lies at the climax and the enumeration is magnificent. The last few paragraphs sums it all up by showing how despite all the murky business, its the emerging world of Bitcoins that is poised to take over the finance world, making millionaires out of commonplace people if you are intelligent enough to cope with it.

I'm an artist but writing is also my passion, hence I blog! I'm humble, little ME, reveling in my own sweet world. There are many a dreams to realize and many beautiful things to do. You Only LIve Once and hence that's exactly WHAT I DO! :D

I'm an artist but writing is also my passion, hence I blog! I'm humble, little ME, reveling in my own sweet world. There are many a dreams to realize and many beautiful things to do. You Only LIve Once and hence that's exactly WHAT I DO! :D

The poem may be a ball of truth gathering some ire and some pity as it rolls but the remaining 4 pillars of The Scribe Tribe are extremely positive people. We gave the 'Game Of Blogs' our all and tried to make a successful journey out of it.

Not one moment did we let our writing get affected by people walking out on us.

It was a roller coaster ride, right from the beginning. Mid-Week 1 itself we had realised that we would need more number of quality fiction writers so we made an attempt to replace our absconding 10th member with a new blogger. BA promptly responded to our request and sent us a new member.

Now I feel like a Lady Sherlock when I recall having Googled the new guy's name to find more about him. I had ventured out to Google his profile because despite Rahul-our POC having written to the replacing player numerous times, he hadn't responded either. So Lo & Behold! What do we find out? A fugitive, an international criminal involved in several fraud marriage cases had been included in our team. I could imagine all my team mates faces draining colour as I shared my discovery with them. BlogAdda was informed and that was that! We chucked him, we blocked him and did some more online scouting to keep him from following us. Hope we have him off our backs for good!

LOL.

So yeah! The Scribe Tribe's journey has been quite eventful.

THE SCRIBE TEAM and what we are made up of....

Day #1 When the team members list arrived, I'd taken the initiative to write to my teammates introducing myself and got cracking at the ice to bring everybody together. As the saying goes, 'first impressions are the last impressions', it rings true.

In the first instance itself, RAHUL PRABHAKAR's self-introductory mail told me, his name sounds like that of a commando and he surely will do well as our Captain. Soon after all the members had been rounded, we had unanimously elected him as our Point of Contact as instructed by BlogAdda and we were good to go!

Need I say, Rahul did justice to his first impression by being there always for the team from Day #1 till date.

He saw to it that he'd given his weekly contribution of a story before leaving for the holiday at Goa with his family that had been pre-planned which happened by the end of week #2 of the GameOfBlogs. This guy's sense of responsibility kept him online and Via FB chat and Whatsapp he saw to it that we updated him and also helped us co-ordinate things as usual.Its a known fact that the Goan Suseghat lifestyle affects us all once you have touched the land but this guy was relentless with his participation in Week #3, especially because we were aiming for the Wild Card entry. Between all the challenges he also had a terrible conjunctivitis to battle and yet The Scribe Tribe's Captain Rahul Prabhakar played the editor's role too, all throughout, absolutely well without a single complaint. The cleanup job after all our euphoric typing is the toughest I believe!

He has also set-up and runs The Scribe Tribe's FB page where we have a 100 LIKEs already! :)

When I signed up for the #GameOfBlogs I'd made a mental note that I, VIBHUTI BHANDARKAR, will stay committed to my team, come what may!

I'd like to say I have made major contribution to The Scribe Tribe's performance at the Game of Blogs. These have been 3 weeks that I took up, not only as a challenge for my writing skills but also as a self-development exercise.

Pulling the different moody writers together, helping them with the storyline, co-ordinating to line them up, staying calm and collected when everything seemed to be falling off the ledge, strategising, phew! The list could definitely go on. I learnt a lot along the way, about myself and about my writing plus points and drawbacks too. I now know that I can make a great team player and also quite a fine leader. I have immense patience and understanding for the myriad types of people that we may come across in life. At the risk of sounding like I'm busy blowing my own trumpet, I'd say my best contribution to this team would be the 'Scribe Tribe' logo besides all the chapters I am proud to have written for the story series that gave great twists to the tale and a creative ground for my teammates to follow up on.

Pictures speak a Thousand words! So true! Meet VETURI SARMA the brooding, thinker of our team who gave our team its name. We were The Scribe Tribe within minutes of forming a Google Group. Hip,Hip, Hooray!!! Something told me, that he was the one who'd play a key role and yes, he did! This man of few words is just the opposite when it comes to writing. He tells tall tales and how! Trust him to take one prompt and make a huge chapter out of it. :) A nocturnal being when it comes to writing, this man has been a gem all through the 3 weeks, balancing his office shifts and contributing well-drafted stories at the drop of a hat, I have special respect for this teammate.

This one was the true pillar of support without whom, Rahul and my spirits to make this team effort a success would have definitely been doused.

And here's the lady who gave me company. BABITHA COSTA, as sweet as the fantastic dishes at her blog. She's not a creative writer but not once did she ever let us down. A quick briefing was enough for her to cook up a short and sweet piece of confectionery and our story series was off to be served, piping hot! A self-motivated contributor to the team, The Scribe Tribe is proud to have had you along Babi. She made sure that all the links were in place and active, keeping a keen eye-out for small typos and errors that may have given us a slip before Rahul's proof-reading.

There's immense amount of virtual love going around between the 4 of us here. I am so proud to have worked shoulder to shoulder with you all on our story series. We made something out of absolutely nothing, quite literally!

BIG BEAR HUGS my Scribes!

The Pancham of our troupe, (not that he sings or composes) since he is the fifth member who stood strong, win or no win, up for the Wild Card Entry round too. It wouldn't be a big surprise if I meet this HARSH SINGH, in person at one of the airport terminals. he practically lives there he says..;) Quite the traveller, this young banking professional got looted off his bag of valuables at Mathura. Shuttling between the Police office and hotel, between cities and his own office, he almost forgot about his Scribe Tribe! Or probably he just couldn't manage writing. I apologise Harry, I had to drag you back by the ear in the Wild Card Entry week again, we needed you!

SARATH BABU our animal lover friend, found some abandoned baby squirrels and adopted them. His videos and pictures that he's shared with me during the first 2 weeks, gave me an insight into how one can actually feel unconditional love in bringing up little babies, not only human but also pet animals like these cute little nibblers. One of the squirrels escaped from Sarath's home and soon after he found it dead in his own garden behind the bushes. And ever since the grief-stricken Sarath has not written for us. We missed your writing for the Wild Card round.

Sarath is a Tweeteratti. Quite a celeb out there, running contests and having a gigiantic number of followers. Thankful and proud to have your support out there Sarath!

Sigh! Thus went the past 3 weeks in the blink of an eye but these days left us with a treasure trove of experiences. Lessons learnt, lifelong friends found in Rahul, Veturi, Baitha and Sarath. I am so proud to have met you all and formed a team with you'll. If given a chance to turn the hands of time I wouldn't change a thing about us.

The Scribe Tribe could do without a certain member 'A' who kept mum Week 2 onward, not quitting and not even contributing; sitting on the fence and blissfully watching us struggle. His snide remarks were also one reason for the loss of a good contributing member from our team who felt hurt and quit. There was one more writer whom time and again I had to pull up and beg and plead for whatever little contribution she has made in the first 2 weeks. Sadly focus and commitment was dreadfully missing and I confess I' wish I'd requested a replacement for them. I wonder what made them sign up for the competition in the first place?

Thankyou BlogAdda for this amazing experience at the #GameOfBlogs.

Never knew #CelebrateBlogging had so much more to it than only writing. It wasn't just about writing and story telling, it wasn't just about working towards our dreams and ambitions of getting published, it was more, much more than we could ever imagine!

I'm an artist but writing is also my passion, hence I blog! I'm humble, little ME, reveling in my own sweet world. There are many a dreams to realize and many beautiful things to do. You Only LIve Once and hence that's exactly WHAT I DO! :D

Oct 5, 2014

Jennifer was bored to her wits
end, the restless soul that she was. Mumbai offered so many exciting
opportunities to explore. There were parties they could have attended and
premieres they could have been at. She only had to tell her Paparazzi friends in
Mumbai that she would be arriving with the Super Model Aryan Ahuja and they
would have got her as many passes as she would like.

"Oh! What fun it would have
been." Jennifer was daydreaming of being in Aryan's glamorous company.

Her face soured as she remembered
how Cyrus seemed to have completely forgotten all about his promise. The
previous evening, after a brief and quite cold introduction, Jennifer had been
left by the two guys at the Dutta
home. Aryan and Cyrus had just simply turned on their heels and walked out.
Jennifer hadn’t been invited over to Aryan's apartment at all, by either of
them.

"How rude!" Jennifer felt
insulted by this behavior and retired to her room. She had begun to feel a rage
rising within her, embittered, almost feeling like she'd been jilted.

The two guys seemed to have
disappeared into their own bubble. There had been no sign of them after that sudden
and abrupt exit. Shekhar had also seemed clueless about their whereabouts and
seemed equally disinterested in keeping track of them.

"He must have other things to
worry about" Jennifer sighed.

'..but where was the camaraderie
Cyrus claimed to have had with Shekhar? What had happened to that great urge to
reconnect with Shekhar which had been the main reason for Cyrus to accompany
her to Mumbai?'

The setting sun had sent an
orange glow washing the cool floor of her room, as the thin curtains blew in the
light evening breeze. Jennifer rose from her bedside perch, to stand in the
window. The sight of the round peppermint-like sun sinking lower, behind the
clouds, dipping to the ground made her feel more despondent. She rested her
head against the wooden window frame in resignation. The tilt of her head now
granted her a view of the small garden in the apartment compound.

Jennifer spotted Roohi on the
swings. Alone but she dint look lonely. Clutching her 'Chennai Express' Barbie, as she called it, Roohi seemed to be
humming some song because her lips were moving. Jennifer bent a little further,
over the window-sill to get a clearer view of the chubby little girl. She gave
a short gasp at what she saw.

Roohi hadn’t been humming. She
was actually talking. To the tall and lanky Aryan Ahuja who stood looming over
the girl, with his back towards their apartment building.

'So finally I get a glimpse of the hunk, again!' Before Jennifer
could even begin to smile, a dark thought crept into her mind, as she
realised Aryan was beckoning to the girl. Roohi had jumped off the swing and
allowed him to lift her into his arms.

Jennifer could hear high pitched voices
from the living room. It was Tara's shrill shrieking and Shekhar's low-throat retorts. Tara and Shekhar clearly weren't watching over Roohi. It however seemed
impossible that they would ask Aryan Ahuja to go fetch her.

Tara had clearly written both
Cyrus Daruwala and Aryan Ahuja as strangers with doubtable characters.

"How much do we know about
them, actually Jen?" Tara had protested.

Jennifer felt the floor of her
stomach sink. Tara's hunches seemed to be frighteningly correct, at this moment.

'What was Aryan Ahuja up to? Where was he taking Roohi?' Jennifer's
head had begun to whirr with a million ugly possibilities.

"There certainly seems to be
something fishy happening here." Without wasting a single more moment, Jennifer
picked up her DSLR and shot out of her room like a blitzing arrow, past the
mindlessly arguing couple. Tara and Shekhar were engrossed in their long-drawn
tiff, busy throwing sharp words at each other. They failed to see Jennifer cruise
past them.

Jennifer stopped in her shoes,
shocked to see that the door to Aryan Ahuja's neighboring flat had been
pad-locked!

'That meant Cyrus Daruwala, wasn’t inside. Where was he?' Jennifer
saw even more reasons to worry. She rushed down the stairs, taking two steps at
a time. She had not time to waste waiting for the elevator. Anything could
happen meanwhile.

"If they've locked the flat
they definitely aren’t headed home. Are Cyrus and Aryan together? Where are they
taking Roohi?"Jenniferstarted crying loudly as she tore down
the stairs at break-neck speed.

Jennifer finally reached the ground
floor and stopped to catch some breath. Just then there was a sudden blackout. Something
told her that she should prep her camera ready to flash. That was the only way
she could catch the culprits red-handed. Her sixth sense, like Tara's, had
already written the two men off.

She rushed to the back gate, adjacent
to the children's play area, weaving between the cars and bikes in the parking
lot. She moved stealthily, quietly, towards the gate in the moonlit evening. It
wasn't pitch dark. She could see a vehicle parked across the road, in the lonely
by-lane outside. Squinting in the dark, peering at the car, Jennifer could see
there were figures, shadily busy, inside it. The old, almost dilapidated Wagon
R seemed to be trembling with activity.

Jennifer ducked and waddled over
to the other side, approaching the car from its rear end. She could hear
muffled voices from inside as she reached the left rear tail end. Bravely
Jennifer rose, with pre-meditated and defined movements. The skilled
photographer had flashed, rapidly, running around the car front over to the
other side, with her camera aimed at the people inside the car.

"Sorry guys! This party is
over." Jennifer shouted at the Wagon's occupants, menacingly going for one
last and final shot.

The flash shone on a third figure
in the driver's seat. Jennifer realised that there was a tall and robust guy, a
third companion in this plan assisting Cyrus and Aryan. She was clearly
out-numbered by them, if they decided to make their move. She hastily retreated
and raced for the apartment gates again, yelling for help. As she rushed in and
ducked between a couple of cars in the parking lot, Jennifer was surprised that
Aryan and his aides hadn’t driven off with the girl, yet. She stayed hidden
there. And soon she heard a lot of feet running towards the gates from where
they'd probably heard her call for help. The Security guards were whistling and
leading the gang..

And soon she heard Tara's voice over the
crowd's surprised gasps, "It's Roohi!" The mother's exasperated
crying rose over the loud discussions that ensued between the people.

Jennifer rose from her hideout
and rushed towards the gates again and saw Shekhar rush in with Roohi's limp
figure in his arms. Neighbours were soon crowding around the trio as Shekhar
had put Roohi down on the table in the lobby and Tara was desperately trying to
wake her up. She was splashing water on the little girl's face and rubbing her
hands vigorously while the neighbours continued to liberally shower them with
unsolicited advice. Nobody had bothered to wonder who must have alerted them
with her cries for help? Nobody had ventured beyond to investigate or chase the
assailants.

"Whose car was it by the
way? Anybody has any idea? Does it belong to someone from our apartment complex?"
Tara was heard asking as Jennifer began pushing through the crowd to reach
Tara, Shekhar and Roohi.

"No Madame, I've definitely
not seen it around here before." The security guard seemed reliable in his
observations.

Jennifer thrust the camera under
Shekhar's nose, with its playback mode switched on. She'd caught many snaps of
Cyrus staring into the camera, dazed by the flashes, like a deer in the headlight. Aryan had been caught, huddled
over Roohi, pressing a kerchief to her mouth as she struggled to free herself.
Roohi's clawing had caused him to wince into the camera. Jennifer had caught
the third face in the photographs too.

Jennifer saw Shekhar's eyes grow
wider and his mouth fall open in a mixed reaction of utter shock and dismay.
Jennifer had herself been very shaken to see the results of her own spying. For
her, that third face had been the most disturbing discovery of the evening.

Roohi had begun to stir and murmur. Tara
pulled the camera towards herself. The last frame with the third assailant's
face was still staring up at them. And it was Tara's turn to faint
at the sight of what had fallen before her eyes.

"…but why?" She asked
feebly, before beginning to collapse into Jennifer's arms, her face draining
all colour.

I'm an artist but writing is also my passion, hence I blog! I'm humble, little ME, reveling in my own sweet world. There are many a dreams to realize and many beautiful things to do. You Only LIve Once and hence that's exactly WHAT I DO! :D

I read books late into the night, searching for mental peace
between those lines, looking for a verbal salve
to my wounds but to no avail. In the night I've cried rivers at my
bedside table and yet the table lamp cannot beat the darkness that's set inside
me. In the pit of my stomach I
constantly feel a churning of emotions. Every time I raise my eyes to look at
Shekhar, they are welling up with more tears of anguish, in apology and they
fall down again in shame but the man continues as if he's not noticed. This
pains me even more. If he'd lashed out at me, I'd have felt a little less like a
murderer,a little more human in my errors.

I've been reading the 'Asura' by Ananda Neelakantan and I
haven't gone beyond the fifth chapter. I've been crying again. Sheku with all
his flaws still stands as the complete man. And I feel like I am the female Ravana of sorts, in Sheku's story, the
one with all the nine emotions in an overdrive. So much that the extremes of
the emotions have taken an evil turn.

I've never been able
to harness my anger. My temper has always gotten the better of me, ruining our
relationship to a great extent. My pride about running the show and being the
bread-earner of the house has definitely punctured Sheku's ego but it has also
clearly broken the man. Jealousy for the perfect lives that my colleagues enjoy
has been vented at home, time and again. I've only poisoned the atmosphere at
home, worsening the situation rather than contributing to building a happy
family.

To be happy one has to stop being unhappy. I haven't. I have
never tried to hit a balance between sadness and happiness. I am afraid, very
afraid of where our future is going. This anxiousness has killed my spirit for
life. I've been selfish too. Thinking only about myself, about what Sheku has
not been able to give me. My ambitions have always been running amuck. I have
let it drive me mad bordering at a murderous frenzy.

The next chapter in the book is titled 'Devil's Raid' and I
think that's exactly what has happened at the beach, between me and Jeremy. I
cannot bring myself to accept that I indulged in that evil act, was an equal
party to that ugly scene, in fact I triggered it. It is never going to be
buried under the sand. The irresponsible and mindless cavorting remains
tattooed on my forehead, the main head of the Dasamukha- the multifaceted cheating wife, in this case.

I have been a disappointment, not only for Sheku but also to
myself. And perhaps to Jenny as well.

"..but this will not continue! It was all my doing and
only I can set things right. There
has got to be a victory of the good over evil!" I am thinking aloud, determined.

Jenny has arrived. And so has that highly doubtable Bawa. I cannot bring myself to
pronounce his name. I have always loved the people of his community. And I have
many as close friends from different walks of life. All genuine people,
extremely warm and helping though a bit eccentric at times but never have I
felt so strongly against any of them. This particular Cyrus Daruwala is
annoying to the core. I can smell it, he's a pseudomaniac! I am going to speak
to Jenny about him. I will have to muster all my strength. I will not be able
to think straight and get around this Parsi puzzle until I confess and ask for
pardon from Jenny.

"Jenny?" I knock on the door to the spare room.
I've cleared all the laundry and the riffraff from that room and tidied it up
for her to stay comfortably, for as many days as she'd like. Shekhar has
specified to Cyrus that he will be putting up at Ahuja's bachelor pad which is
definitely very POSH to be called just that.

" Tara!" she hollers in reply, "I'll be out
in just a minute."

With her hair wrapped in a checkered cotton towel and piled
in a knot at the back of her nape, Jenny walks out into the hall, where I've
been waiting with a hot cup of Filter
Kapi. Kochi has brought a lot of changes in her taste and choice of words.

Jenny has thoughtfully brought another Barbie, dressed like a Southern Belle, for Roohi. Roohi is overjoyed to receive a surprise gift. Tearing at the gift wrap, Roohi runs off with her new doll, to show it to her friends. Jennifer and I are left to ourselves. Jenny looks happy, sitting by our bay window, sipping at her coffee, looking very contented. And there is no sign of disquiet between us.

"So does she not know a thing about the happenings from
the other night? " I wonder.

"Where is Jeremy? He has left without a word but surely
everything is OK between them, by the looks of it. Absolutely no sign of
despair, there."Studying Jenny's face has not given me answers but has
left me with more questions instead.

"So is there
something between you and Cyrus, now?" I hear myself asking Jenny, cutting
straight to the point. It's always been like that! I never was and never will
be able to beat around the bush, with her.

She sputters on the last sip of coffee and I have to thump
her back, to settle her down again. Jenny is enjoying a hearty laugh at my
questioning. Apparently, I've asked her an absurd question, "Or is that
laughter just to veil a deeper pain? " I think to myself.

"NO!" she says, "…but there's definitely
going to be a lot between me and Aryan Ahuja!" Jenny answers in a
sing-song manner. She's clearly in a very good mood and so I avoid bringing up
the topic of the beach-side, from that horrible night.

"Hey, how the hell do Cyrus Daruwala and Aryan Ahuja
know each other?" I begin to dig. "Isn't it too much of a
co-incidence that Cyrus strikes a friendship with our new neighbour and should be
travelling in the very same train compartment as me and Shekhar, all within a
span of 3 months' time?" My pitch has risen a tad bit, bordering at
anxiety but Jenny seems unperturbed.

" Oh! Come on, Tara what's wrong with you?" she
retorts, "The world is such a small place. And isn't it a lovely
co-incidence? Cyrus knowing Aryan Ahuja, has given me a chance to get to a
Super-Model!" she squeals, in excitement, picking up her camera once again
and peering through the view-finder. Click! She's at it again.

"Jennifer has completely missed the point", I
think, slightly irritated.

"..but what’s in it for Cyrus? Why did he come all the
way, tagging along with you with that broken leg?" I pursue, trying to
drive my point in. " He could have simply put in a word for you and that's
that! You would be fine visiting us on your own and seeing Aryan Ahuja, at the
side. BONUS!" I said teasingly.

It was just a momentary thinking pause before, Jenny
pooh-poohed my doubts saying, " Oh! He has taken a liking to Shekhar and thinks
he owed him a visit. After all he was the one to have landed him in a
soup!"

"..Oh! By the way, did I miss out on a lot from the
night at the beach? Why did Cyrus and Shekhar just drive off with the Jeep
without informing us? If it was ready for the road, we could have all gotten in
and traveled down to my home in Kochi. It would have been more comfortable and
in fact, we would have definitely had a great time there!" Jenny has
finally asked THE question.

"Even Jeremy's
disappeared. Do you know WHY? " There, Jenny has dropped the final bomb of
a question.

" Yes, there's in fact a lot that happened that night,
Jen." I can feel her eyes scouring my face. " ..between Jeremy and
me."

I cannot bring myself
to look into her eyes. My voice shakes and I'm trembling, tears welling up in
my eyes again. Before I can continue with the story, she's read it in my face.
Jenny cradles my chin with her tall fingers and plants a kiss on my temple.

" I should have guessed it! I can say, I almost did but
I was waiting for you to tell me. I was sure you would at the right time."
With that Jenny has given me a tight hug, the same old hug with the same
warmth, for the same length of time. There's nothing that can change the
friendship between us. She's a God-gifted sister that my mother forgot to give
me.

"So now there's one person lesser to make amends
with." I think and heave a sigh of relief.

"Now it's time
that this mystery called Cyrus Daruwala unravels."

I collect my thoughts between all the excitement, of a rejuvenated
relationship.

"My hunches are almost always right. There's something
so wrong with the way this guy made a creepy entry into our life and the string
of episodes that have followed, ever since." I know I'm sounding like I mean business,
this time.

I'm an artist but writing is also my passion, hence I blog! I'm humble, little ME, reveling in my own sweet world. There are many a dreams to realize and many beautiful things to do. You Only LIve Once and hence that's exactly WHAT I DO! :D